


Budding

by ficletsandthelike (schulia_jet)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blood and Injury, Gen, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron)-centric, Violence, Wingless Lance (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 21:32:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14839544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schulia_jet/pseuds/ficletsandthelike
Summary: All Lance ever wanted to do was fly.





	Budding

Lance thought, overall, that the concept of wings was ridiculous. The one magical thing that humans had harnessed was the one that he couldn’t seem to figure out.

Most people received their wings around thirteen years old. There were early and late bloomers, of course, but with puberty came the arrival of two shimmery appendages, stretching to full length over the course of several days. Lance sat, year after year, waiting for the familiar small buds to appear as he ate his birthday cake, but his back remained stubbornly clear.

It was worse when he attended the Garrison. There was no hiding under large shirts or sweaters; Lance could never escape the scrutinizing stares of his classmates and superiors. There was one boy, Keith, who had never given him a second glance, and Lance detested him for it. The small nagging voice in his head tried to tell him it was jealousy, but he pushed it away. There had to be someone, something, anything to blame.

Hunk was the only person that didn’t treat Lance as if he had some sort of disease. He had been cursed with abnormally small wings, and in comparison with his larger frame, he had had his fair share of condescending looks. It was their complementing personalities, however, that quickly solidified the friendship.

Lance could not have been more confused when the Blue Lion chose him to pilot. He couldn’t fight or fly all that well; he thought he was a great shot, but the team never acknowledged him, so he chalked it up to arrogance. His only solace was that no one needed to use their wings in space, what with the lions and armor designed for wingless paladins. After every battle, the membranes shined under the castle lights once again, and Lance was reminded how little he was needed.

A laser pierced Lance’s armor, propelling him against the wall with a pained gasp. He pressed a hand to his side, watching the dark red drip over his fingers. He sent a silent prayer to his mama and weakly lifted his gun, shooting a few soldiers with fading vision.

Something pushed against the back of his chestplate, and Lance smiled softly.

He could finally fly.


End file.
